


Never Be Satisfied

by Syvaysae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A handful of OCs to pad out the character count, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syvaysae/pseuds/Syvaysae
Summary: On the morning of September 1st, the year that he turned eleven years old, Remus Lupin packed a backpack, smashed his piggy bank and took an early morning bus to King’s Cross Station.Dumbledore was not successful in persuading Lyall and Hope Lupin to let their precious baby boy attend Hogwarts, so Remus takes matters into his own hands.





	1. The Best Seven Hours

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in about a thousand years, so please don't expect anything too mind-blowing! Just a few chapters of fluffy-ish first-year Lupin AU... Enjoy!

On the morning of September 1st, the year that he turned eleven years old, Remus Lupin packed a backpack, smashed his piggy bank and took an early morning bus to King’s Cross Station. He had spent an hour the night before writing and re-writing a letter to his parents in his messy handwriting, telling them not to worry, not to come looking for him. The final copy he sealed in an envelope, labelled _Mum & Dad, _and propped up on his pillow so that it would be the first thing his parents saw when they entered the room. Then, he climbed out his bedroom window, shimmied down the drainpipe to the lawn, and took off at a fast walk to the bus stop around the corner.

The driver looked a little surprised to see the boy taking the bus alone so early in the morning, but Remus gave her his most confident smile, and handed her the correct change, so she let him take his seat, throwing glances back at him in the rear vision mirror every so often. He hopped off the bus at the station, thanking the driver, and went to find a clock he could check. It was 9.30am. He had been determined to arrive as early as possible, to make absolutely sure that no unexpected delays, missed buses or unfortunate accidents would prevent him from being on the most important train ride of his life. The Muggle part of the station was already bustling with morning commuters, and none had a second glance to spare for the scrawny child wending his way to Platform 9.

Remus paused before the barrier that led to Platform 9 and ¾. It must look odd to passerby, he knew, a small child standing a metre away from a brick wall and staring at it like it were the most riveting film, but he was too excited to simply stroll nonchalantly through the wall as he had planned.This was the moment he had been dreaming about for eleven years. In a matter of seconds, he would be standing in the middle of the real Wizarding world. He stretched out one hand, and felt his fingers slip through the brickwork, as if it wasn't even there. With a large grin on his face, Remus shouldered his backpack, and walked wide-eyed through the barrier between the two worlds.

Platform 9 and ¾ was almost completely deserted. The Hogwarts Express had not even pulled into the station. There was a man at the other end of the platform, but he was sleeping on a bench. Judging by the hat he had pulled over his face, Remus thought he might have been the conductor. It was more underwhelming than it would have been had he arrived later, Remus knew, when all the children were bursting through the barrier with their luggage and their owls. He wasn’t totally bored in the forty-five minutes he had alone, however. He smoothed out a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ he found crumpled against a wall, and spent a while perusing its pages. He read about Minister for Magic Eugenia Jenkins meeting with the American Wizarding Ambassador, and about Quidditch disputes, and an advice column that discussed the best ways to get rid of doxy infestations. He watched the pictures of the Minister and the columnist and several Quidditch teams move around on the page.

He wondered if his parents had knocked on his door yet.They would knock intermittently and ask if he was awake until about 10.30, when they would start demanding that he get up. He didn’t think they would go so far as to actually barge in and shake him awake until at least 11.00, which was all he needed. Once the clock struck 11, he would be aboard the Hogwarts Express, and there was nothing his parents could do about it.

The first student came through the barrier at 10.24, with a trolley full of luggage and a fat black cat in a cage perched atop it all. Her mother came through beside her chatting at full speed. Neither of them noticed Remus, sitting quietly on a bench with his backpack. 

The Hogwarts Express pulled up at 10.30 exactly. It’s whistle blew as it glided to a halt, and the conductor, having woken some time ago, walked the length of the train pulling open all the doors. By this time, there were dozens more students and their parents on the platform. There had been a steady stream of them, each with different animals in cages. Some older-looking students had their wands out and were performing all kinds of spells, and Remus didn’t know where to look as things levitated and changed colour and flew the length of the platform all around him.

Finally, he got the nerve to get on the train, and found a compartment all of his own. He trapped his backpack between his legs and the front of the seat and stared rapturously out at the chaos on the platform. He almost couldn’t believe where he was. It seemed like a dream. He had dreamed of this moment often enough. But he ran his hand along the fabric of the seats, and knew that it was most definitely real. Things didn’t have textures in dreams, not properly. It was real, and he was going to Hogwarts. It didn’t matter how long for. Even if he only managed to set a foot in Hogsmeade Station before they carted him away, he would have ridden the Hogwarts Express with hundreds of other Witches and Wizards, and bought Wizarding sweets and seen students doing magic in the aisles. His parents would be furious. They would be beyond furious. He would likely be grounded until he was eighty. But he had been planning this since he was eight, and he was confident that any punishment in the world was worth it.

He was joined in his compartment soon enough by a small group of seventh-year girls wearing stylish Muggle clothing.They were giggling amongst themselves, and all smiled at Remus as they entered.

“Are you waiting for friends?” one asked him, “Is it alright if we sit here?”

“Y-yeah,” Remus said nervously, “Sure.”

The girls all took seats. One girl pulled out a stack of Wizarding magazines, and began studying one very closely as she took out her wand and began to perform a series of charms on another girl’s hair. The hair began to levitate from the girl’s shoulders, and divide into small groups, which then began to weave intricately together. Remus gawped wide-eyed, but could not watch as closely as he would have liked, since the girl who had talked to him continued to chatter.

“The compartments fill up fast around here,” she told him, “You were smart to come early and be the first in. It’s so much more awkward to have to slot yourself into one that’s half full. Are you a first year?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied, still distracted by the hair styling going on just to the girl’s right.

“You must be nervous, not knowing anybody!” The girl had the air of a teacher: smiling and caring and official. “We’re all seventh years. If you need any help, or have questions, we’d be happy to answer them. Do you have any idea what house you’ll be in?” Remus shook his head.

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” the girl told him, “Alana and Cassie are Slytherin. Rosie’s a Ravenclaw and Hannah’s a Gryffindor. So whichever house you end up in, you’ve got your bases covered if you need anything. Any house you’ve got your heart set on?” Remus shrugged.

“Well I’ll put in a good word for Hufflepuff,” the girl smiled, “We’re the kind and hard-working house. And the house that’s five metres away from the kitchens. I’m Lyra, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Remus,” he said. She reached out and shook his hand.

There was a shriek from the girl getting her hair braided as the girl braiding lost focus for a moment and created a large tangle.

“Cassie!” the girl with the knot cried, “I thought you said you knew what you were doing!”

“Oh hold still, Hannah!” Cassie grumbled, sticking her wand between her teeth as she started trying to work the knot out with her hands. The compartment descended into chaos as all five girls began trying to remedy the situation, magically and manually. Remus curled up against the window and watched, taking a book from his bag and peeping over the top so it didn’t look like he was blatantly staring.

When the knot had been untangled, and Hannah’s hair had been styled to Cassie’s satisfaction, the Slytherin girl selected Rosie as her next victim and began the process again.

“Cassie’s the reason I cut my hair short,” Lyra said conspiratorially to Remus, as though the two of them were in on some big secret, “She does this every two weeks. You’ve got a bit of a mop going on. She could probably do yours.” Remus felt his face going red, but Cassie nearly dropped her wand as she excitedly turned to Remus.

“Can I?” she asked, “I could cut it a bit too! I never get to do boy’s hair! I could give you the latest fashion!”

“Y-yeah,” Remus said, with a nervous smile. He had never really minded his shaggy mane of hair, but he would do anything this girl suggested, so long as it involved magic. He swapped seats with Rosie, who looked thankful to be released from her torment, and nearly rolled his eyes back in his head to try and get a look at what the girl was doing. He could swear he felt magical energy tingling across his skull as little pieces of hair fell in his lap and onto his shirt. Alana and Hannah dealt themselves a hand of Exploding Snap cards and struck up a game, while Rosie pulled out a book. Lyra and Cassie simply chatted, making sure to include Remus in their talk. They didn’t ask him too many questions, thankfully, since Remus wasn’t sure he could come up with a convincing story that would hold up under scrutiny. They talked about N.E.W.Ts, who their Professors would be, life after Hogwarts. Cassie wanted to own a salon. Lyra wanted to design dress robes and other Wizarding clothing. Remus told them he would do anything in the world so long as it involved magic, which set the girls to giggling.

“We just got a new Headmaster last year,” Lyra informed Remus, “His name’s Professor Dumbledore. He was the Deputy Headmaster before. Everyone’s sad to see old Dippet go, of course, but Dumbledore's awesome!"

“Yeah, I know him!” Remus said enthusiastically, “He came to my house. He played Gobstones with me!” _And my parents fought with him and made him leave,_ he left unsaid.

“Oh, are you a muggleborn then?” Cassie asked, “I felt sure you were from a Wizarding family. With the name and all. Only, teachers don’t go to kid’s houses unless it’s because they have to explain the Wizarding world to the parents.”

“Oh…” Remus murmured, biting his lip, “No… I’m… I’m a half-blood. Er… he was just at my house is all.” Whatever the reason, this lame excuse seemed to work, for the two girls quickly changed the topic.

The next few hours passed in much the same way. Remus emerged from under Cassie’s wand with shorter, more stylish hair, and a fringe that no longer fell in his eyes but swept artfully off to the side. He played a round of Exploding Snap and learned the basics of Wizard Chess and when the Trolley Witch trundled by with her mountain of sweets, Remus carefully counted the six sickles he had managed to collect over many, many years, and spent them all on a pumpkin pasty, a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, a Chocolate Frog, and a packet of Droobles. He tore open the packaging of the Chocolate Frog to see the card, which was, rather unsettlingly, a snakelike Dark Wizard named Herpo the Foul, but he watched the man grimace and glare for a good long while nevertheless. He managed to eat about ten Every Flavour Beans before he had to stop. He found an almond, a toffee and a blueberry flavoured bean, but also liver, overcooked cabbage, soap, and, completely unfairly and rather ironically, four that tasted like dog food. Remus, not wanting to spit these beans out while he had an audience, forced himself to swallow them down, grimacing as he did so. The experience may have been a magical one, but did not think he’d soon get rid of the taste of old meat in his mouth. 

He stuffed his remaining sweets into the bottom of his backpack. When he was inevitably caught and forced to return home, they would be his reminder of the best seven hours he had ever passed in his life. He had a sudden vision of himself, older and skinner, lying on his bed and mournfully putting the last piece of Droobles into his mouth, blowing sad, pink bubbles up to his bedroom ceiling. By that time, he thought, he would probably be grateful for every dog food-flavoured bean that passed his lips. How he wished he had managed to scavenge a few more sickles!


	2. A Brand New Pair of Wizard Robes

An hour or so later, after another game of Exploding Snap, Lyra peered out the window and announced that they would be at Hogwarts soon enough, and that she was going to change into her robes. Remus’ heart began to pound in his chest. He had brought a pair of robes with him, to blend in as best he could, but they were his Dad’s old robes, and not even Hogwarts ones. Lyall Lupin was not a tall man, but he was tall enough that his sleeves would flop over Remus’ hands.

“I...I’ll go to the bathroom,” Remus excused himself, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and making a hasty retreat. Inside the cubicle, he pulled on what he was going to try and pass off as a uniform and looked down at it with dismay. If one were hard of vision and looking from a distance, it might appear passable, but the style was utterly wrong. Falling against the cubicle door, Remus broke down into tears. It had all been so wonderful he had almost forgotten the plain, hard truth. He had felt a sense of belonging amongst those seventh-year girls. They had accepted him as one of their own without thinking twice. He had known, before setting a foot outside his house that morning, that he would be lucky to even set a foot on the Hogwarts Express. He had told himself that if they dragged him by the ear from Hogsmeade Station and sent him home in disgrace that he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. That he would be grateful for having some little part of the Wizarding world to hold onto. But now that he had come so far and seen so much, he couldn’t stifle the part of him that cried out for more. He wanted to learn to cast spells and make potions, to meet the Hogwarts ghosts and read in the library. But the wolf that lived inside him had ruined everything! He stomped his feet on the floor in frustration and, muffling the sound with his sleeve, cried aloud in misery.He had been so ready for an adventure this morning, and now… now he was hundreds of miles from home, alone, afraid and waiting only to be exposed for the fraud he was in front of absolutely everybody.

After a very long while, there came a soft knock at the cubicle door. Sniffing and hastily brushing his tears from his cheeks, Remus managed to choke out: ‘Be just a minute!”

“Remus?” It was Lyra’s voice that came from the other side of the door, light and friendly. “It’s just me. You’ve been so long and I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t strangled yourself with your tie!”

“I..I’m fine,” Remus tried to reply nonchalantly, but a shaky hiccup in the middle of his words gave him away.

“Remus, what’s the matter?” Lyra’s voice was suddenly very concerned.

“N...nothing,” Remus stammered.

“Remus, why don’t you open the door and we can talk about it? I’m the Head Girl this year. It’s my job to help where I can.” Flushing beet red and feeling shame in the very pit of his stomach, Remus opened the door and bowed his head as she gave him an appraising look.

“I see,” she said.

“I don’t want to be kicked out,” Remus hiccuped.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Lyra shushed him, “Nobody’s kicking you out. You know, plenty of parents don’t have the money for new school robes! They cost an awful lot! The school has money to give away to help families like yours, you know!” Remus didn’t correct her, didn’t know how. It was so much easier letting her believe her fiction.

“Luckily for you,” Lyra continued, “I happen to be very keen on designing clothes. I’ve got all sorts of sewing charms up my sleeve. If you’ll let me, I bet I can have you looking as though you just stepped out the door of Madam Malkin’s!”

“Really?” Remus asked, looking up at her, eyes shining with tears.

“Absolutely,” Lyra said with certainty, giving him a grin, “Would you like to go back to the compartment, or do it right here?”

“Here,” Remus said at once. He didn’t want another soul seeing him as he presently was.

“Of course,” Lyra said softly, closing the door behind them. There wasn’t much room for maneuvering inside the small train bathroom. Lyra took a seat on the tank of the toilet, resting her feet on the closed lid, and got Remus to stretch out his arms as far as he was able. She looked over her own, newly donned, Hufflepuff robe for reference, making a long ‘hmm’ sound all the while. She sat immobile for a good half minute, her wand pointing directly at Remus, which made him fidget a little. Then, abruptly, she nodded, and set to work at a rapid pace. She used a charm that changed the colour of the robes from a navy blue to a black. Then, she set about using a severing charm to cut out great swathes of the hem and sleeves, and using a stitching charm to make them neat and tidy once more. Using a shrinking charm, she fitted the shoulders and arms of the robe to Remus’. She added the required coloured stripes to Remus' jumper, changed the colour of his tie, and copied the Hogwarts crest from the door of the bathroom and attached it to both his robe and his tie.

"It's going to look a bit odd," she explained, "But I can't copy it off my own robe. Madam Malkin puts charms to prevent that sort of thing on all her clothing."

She then restyled the collar of his robe, removed the buttons, and for good measure, gave his shoes a shine. When Remus looked down at himself, he couldn’t believe the change. He looked as if he had just paid gold galleons for his robe, not fished it out of the back of his father’s closet and kept it in a backpack for weeks.

“It’s not perfect,” Lyra warned him, “But I don’t think anybody will notice.” Remus started crying once more, but it was gratitude that prompted his tears this time. Perhaps he might make it all the way to the castle doors with this disguise. He wrapped his arms around Lyra’s waist and gave her a long and squeezing hug. She seemed taken aback for a moment, and then patted the top of his head awkwardly.

“Shall we go back and see if it’s a convincing fake?” she asked him. He nodded, drying his cheeks with the back of his hand. When they arrived back at the compartment, the girls all looked at him with barely concealed sympathy.

“Everything alright?” Rosie asked as Remus took his seat.

“Oh, I don’t know what I even worried about!” Lyra laughed, “There was a long line is all! I feel a bit foolish now!” The other girls laughed at their friend good-naturedly, and not a word was said about Remus’ school robes. He didn’t even see a funny look cast his way. The joy of a tremendous victory stirred in his chest. This feeling didn’t even falter as the train hissed into Hogsmeade Station. He was sure nobody would pick him out of the crowd and take him aside. Lyra gave him a pat on the back, and a whispered ‘good luck!’, and pointed him in the direction of a very, very large man at one end of the station, who was calling all first years over to him in a great, booming voice. Remus made to get reassurance from the older girl that the man was safe to approach, but she had already disappeared into the crowd.

Biting his lip, Remus wended his way through the hundreds of people that crowded him on all sides. Remus was not a tall boy, and his extreme skinniness made him appear smaller still. He was knocked about by boisterous groups of boys, and girls who weren’t looking where they were going. He didn’t even see the giant man he was trying to make his way towards until a shove from behind pushed Remus right into his legs.

“Sorry!” Remus yelped, leaping backwards.

“Watch where yer going, eh?” the man exclaimed, but with a large grin and gleaming eyes. He gave Remus a pat on the back that almost knocked him flat, and continued to shout out for first years to join him where he stood. Remus realised he was surrounded by people his own height, some of them looking just as nervous as he felt. Some stood alone, shuffling their feet and trying to find somewhere to look; some stood in pairs; some in large groups. Remus desperately wanted to find someone to talk to, though he knew he would never see any of them again after that night. After a moment of looking about, trying to figure out which of the other first-years would deign to talk to him, he made abrupt eye contact with a boy even shorter than himself, who gave him a nervous little smile. Steeling himself, Remus shuffled over and gave the boy a quiet little ‘hi’.

“Hi,” the boy replied in a mousy voice. He had a round face and wispy blond hair, and his nails were chewed short.

“I’m Remus,” he said, extending his hand like he had seen his mother do on the rare occasion his father had brought home colleagues for dinner.

“Peter,” the boy said, shaking it.

“That man’s massive!” Remus whispered, inclining his head back to the man whose legs he had run into, “Do you think he’s a giant?”

“Can’t be,” Peter said, shaking his head, “Giants’re way bigger. You couldn’t touch the knees of a real giant!”

“You know about giants?” Remus asked, eyes wide.

“Not really,” Peter shrugged, “Just what everyone knows. I don’t know much about anything really.”

“More than me, I bet,” Remus said, “Do you know anything about Hogwarts?”

“A bit,” Peter said, “I dunno. Mum told me some things.”

“Like what?” Remus realised suddenly that he was fixing Peter with the most wide-eyed and eager of stares, and quickly dropped his gaze.

“Well, Mum was in Ravenclaw, and she said to even get in your dorm you have to answer a riddle, and if you can’t, you’re locked out and you have to wait for someone else who knows the answer.” He looked absolutely horrified by the thought.

“Do you think you’ll be in Ravenclaw?” Remus asked him.

“Oh, no!” Peter exclaimed, “I’m not smart enough at all to be in Ravenclaw! Or kind enough to be in Hufflepuff. Or cunning enough to be in Slytherin. Or brave enough to be in Gryffindor. I’m half convinced the Sorting Hat will just tell me to go home and not bother, actually.”

“I’m scared of that too,” Remus told him, neglecting to mention the very practical reason for these fears.

“Maybe everyone’s scared like us,” Peter suggested, “Although I’ve overheard a bunch of people saying what house they’re going to be in. That boy and that girl,” he said, pointing, “Are convinced they’re Slytherins. And those boys say they’re Gryffindors. And those girls are going to be Hufflepuffs.”

“I’m jealous of all of them,” Remus sighed. Peter grimaced, but was stopped from replying by the not-a-giant, who directed all the first years to follow him.

“Stay with me?” Peter asked, as they walked off.

“Yeah,” Remus assured him. _As long as I can._


	3. Seven Years of Memories to Make

They were led to a fleet of tiny rowboats, and the exceedingly tall man stopped them all to give them a brief lecture.

“My name’s Hagrid,” he informed them all, “Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. These boats here will take you right to the castle. I want four in each boat, an’ no more. Anyone falls in, don’t panic. We’ll get you fished out before you can say ‘Quidditch’. If yer lucky, the Giant Squid might give you a hand… or a tentacle.” He chuckled at his own joke, and gave them the go ahead to choose their boats. Remus and Peter were the first in their boat. It rocked alarmingly beneath their feet, and Remus instantly dropped to his seat to keep from falling out. Keen as he was for as many magical experiences as possible, he did not fancy being manhandled by a giant sea monster anytime soon. The very mention of a Giant Squid had turned Peter’s face an unpleasant white.

“If I fall out,” he muttered to Remus, “Grab me before the Squid does. Please.”

“Yeah,” Remus grinned.

They were almost immediately joined in their boat by two other boys, both taller than Remus and Peter, and both with shaggy black hair. These two boys leapt into the boat without fear.

“Hey!” said the one with hair down past his shoulders, “Anyone fancy going for a swim with me? I’m dying to see the Giant Squid!”

“He’s kidding,” said the one with the shorter hair when he saw Remus and Peter’s eyes widen, “Unless you’re up for it of course! Hi, I’m James.”

“Don’t tell me when I’m joking, Potter!” the long-haired boy berated his friend, “But yeah, I’m joking. Sirius.” Remus and Peter each gave their names.

“Those are some wicked scars you’ve got there!” Sirius nodded at Remus, raising his eyebrows like he had never been so impressed. Remus was taken aback. Strange as it sounded, he had forgotten entirely about the scars that covered his face, neck, hands. Scars that had come from the wolf that had turned him. Scars that he had made with his own hands - claws - during painful transformations. He had lived with them for so long that he had stopped thinking about them altogether. How the girls on the train, the bus driver, Peter, the Trolley Witch, how they all must have been desperately trying not to stare! What must they have been thinking? Sirius must have seen the look of complete terror and shame that crossed Remus’ face at the statement, and hastily tried to clarify.

“Badass scars!” he said emphatically, “You look like you beat up Dark Wizards in back alleys with your fists nightly! You could get any girl you wanted with scars like those!”

“You think they’re cool?” Remus asked with a small grin.

“Wicked cool,” Sirius affirmed, “Tell you what. As soon as we find a spell for it, I’ll trade you my dashing good looks for those scars.”

“Oh, well I don’t know,” Remus said offhandedly, feeling his heart begin to do somersaults, “I’ve just started to get pretty attached to them, actually.”

The boats began to move of their own accord across the water, and Remus couldn’t decide if he wanted to crane his neck to try and see Hogwarts castle, or keep talking with these other first year boys, who he would commit murder to have as friends.

“So, you’ll be in Gryffindor then,” Sirius said to Remus, “Seeing as how you beat up Dark Wizards with your fists and all.” Remus shrugged.

“Well, you should be,” Sirius answered himself, “James and I are going to be.”

“Well, we think we will be,” James amended, “You can never really be sure.”

“I’m sure,” Sirius said, “I’m going to think really hard at the Sorting Hat, and tell it that if it doesn’t put me in Gryffindor I’m going to sneak into the Headmaster’s office with a carving knife and cut it to ribbons.”

Sitting there in his wizard robes, playfully discussing Hogwarts houses with other young Wizards as their rowboat floated steadily across the vast lake towards Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry made Remus, for a brief, blissful moment, forget his impending exposure as a fraud. It would be minutes, he knew, until a Professor clapped eyes on him and demanded to know what exactly he thought he was doing, but somehow, it didn’t seem to be of pressing concern. The waning moon was shining on the flat, black lake. The only sounds were the exclamations and excited whispering of the other children, as they leaned as far over the edges of their boats as they dared.

The boats passed through a curtain of vines and turned a corner, and suddenly the castle was before them; imposing and majestic and lit up with a hundred candles in a hundred windows. Remus heard gasps all around him, and was sure his own mouth must be hanging open comically. It was better than he had dreamed, and he had been dreaming constantly, since his mother had first told him of the school when he was four years old, before the attack. It looked like the world’s most beautiful Christmas decoration, or a set piece for the most incredible fantasy film. He couldn’t draw his eyes from it, not even when the boats drifted up to a quay, and Remus was forced to disembark. He almost fell flat on his face as he craned his neck upwards to keep looking at the towers and turrets and gargoyles. Sirius guffawed, and reached out a hand to steady him.

“Careful!” he exclaimed, “Did you get all those scars from just tripping over your own feet?”

  
“I just want to make sure I see everything,” Remus defended himself.

“Yeah, well you’ve got seven years for that,” Sirius laughed, “Don’t break your neck trying to see it all tonight!” Remus bit his lip and looked down at his shoes, trying to control his despair. His heart was pounding once more. He was starting to wonder how he might suffer the least humiliation possible. He knew he had to leave, but he didn’t want to be pointed and laughed at in the middle of the Great Hall, in front of these boys who had been so kind. By the time they were mounting the steps to the large double doors that would take them inside, he had decided that, before they entered the Great Hall, he would slip away, hide somewhere, find a Professor later, and confess his crime. Perhaps if he turned himself in, they would be kinder.

Slipping away turned out to be nothing short of impossible for two reasons. Firstly, there was only one exit from the small antechamber they found themselves in, and it was the door to the Great Hall, in front of which stood a middle-aged witch in an emerald-green robe. Secondly, Remus was too much in awe to even begin to try and plan his escape. Portraits chatted to each other all around them and ghosts floated through the walls, swooping low over their heads and remarking how exciting it was to have a new collection of fresh faces.

“Welcome, welcome!” the ghost of an older man called out merrily as he passed directly through Remus’ chest, making him shudder with the icy cold of it. He hadn’t even had time to figure out how to break away from underneath the eyes of James, Sirius and Peter before the witch at the doors had stepped forward to greet the group.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” she greeted them all with a reserved smile, “My name is Professor McGonagall, and I will be your Transfiguration teacher this year. I’m sure you all must be very nervous, so allow me to explain what will happen once you all pass through these doors and into the Great Hall.” Remus could have sworn that Professor McGonagall looked right at him while making this speech, but she didn’t comment. “When you reach the front of the Great Hall, I will read your names one by one off of this list. When your name is called, you will come forward and sit on the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will place you in one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. You will then go and sit at the table that matches that house. After the feast, you will follow the Prefects of your house to your Common Rooms. Tomorrow, at breakfast, you will receive your class timetables. Are there any urgent questions?” Nobody said a word. Remus’ heart was beating in his ears as he looked at his feet. There was nowhere to go.

Professor McGonagall opened the doors, and the group of first-years began to move. Remus’s feet felt glued to the floor until Sirius gave him a nudge. As they walked up the aisle between two long tables, Remus couldn’t see anything. He barely registered the ceiling, which was a mirror image of the night sky. He barely registered the candles, floating of their own accord. He barely registered the hundreds of students, all staring intently the new witches and wizards. He didn’t even hear the Sorting Hat sing its song. He was trembling in fear. Any second now. It would be any second that somebody would point at him. He had thought he was prepared for this. He had thought that all he wanted was a glimpse. But now, he realised that a glimpse wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t want to leave the school. He didn’t want to return to his Muggle neighbourhood, and his three-bedroom home, and sit down with his parents every night to a meal of one meat and three vegetables. He didn’t want to transform every month in a repurposed bedroom, reinforced with silencing charms. He didn’t want to go back to having no friends, being tutored at home, being kept away from anything remotely magical.

“Black, Sirius,” was the first thing he completely heard and understood. Clapping James Potter on the back, Sirius pushed past them and sauntered up to the Sorting Hat. True to his word, his face under the enormous hat was screwed up as though he was concentrating very hard on creating a mental picture of a fraying pile of ripped fabric.

“Gryffindor!” the hat finally shouted, and Sirius’ face split into a satisfied grin. He shot a wink at James, and sauntered off to the Gryffindor table. It might have been his imagination, Remus thought, but it seemed as though a buzz of whispering followed this pronouncement, as though there was some significance in that particular sorting.

The students around Remus dwindled away slowly. Lily Evans. Annamarie Farra. Cassiopeia Greengrass. Joey King. Alfred Linnett. Soon, Remus knew, McGonagall would run out of names, and Remus would be a lone figure in the very centre of the Great Hall, with hundreds upon hundreds of eyes just… staring. Wondering. He felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.

“Lupin, Remus.”


	4. An Untouched Feast

His head flew up and he locked eyes with Professor McGonagall, whose face betrayed no emotion whatsoever. He looked around their group. Nobody made a move to go up to the Sorting Hat. There were no other Remus Lupins waiting for their turn. He looked back at McGonagall. She jerked her head to say  _ Come on.  _ Shakily, he began to walk up. He realised that he was more scared to do this than to stand alone in the middle of the Great Hall while a thousand people whispered amongst themselves about what exactly this little misfit thought he was doing. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t know what was going on.

When he reached the stool, he looked back up at Professor McGonagall, who gave him the thinnest of smiles and a small nod. He sat down, and looked out at the sea of faces. No confused faces, no disgusted faces, no outraged faces. Just blank, unemotional, impassive stares. Just watching him. Then, the hat came down over his eyes, and all was dark.

_ Ah,  _ a voice echoed in his head,  _ We were not expecting you. I heard the Headmaster talk of you in his office. To come anyway… well, I think it’s obvious there’s only one place for you. _

“Gryffindor!” 

Light blinded him as the hat was abruptly removed, and he could hear the sounds of clapping from his left. He looked up at McGonagall in confusion, but she simply nodded towards the far table with another small smile. He didn’t know what else to do. He simply walked over there, found Sirius, and slid in beside him. How was it possible he was sorted into a house? How on earth was he supposed to confess now?

Sirius clapped him on the back.

“Nice one, mate!” he exclaimed, “Now it’s just James to cross my fingers for!”

“And Peter,” Remus added, though he didn’t know why that mattered to him. Surely he would never see Peter again after tonight. Surely.

“And Peter,” Sirius added after a moment, the look on his face suggesting that this addition was only to placate him.

Peter sat on the stool for five whole minutes with the hat almost covering his nose before the Sorting Hat shouted ‘Gryffindor’ and James, predictably, went to Gryffindor as well. Sirius and James laughed and jeered as a boy named Severus was sorted into Slytherin. After Hayley Yeung was pronounced a Hufflepuff, there was a long round of applause, and the feast began. 

Although at least a hundred astonishing dishes sprung up before Remus’ eyes, he was too nervous to do more than serve himself a large spoonful of mashed potatoes and pick slowly at it throughout the evening. Sirius and James appeared to be having a fantastic time, tucking into plates of food that were piled almost to eye level. Peter was preoccupied with getting a little of everything. Remus kept stealing glances up at the teacher’s table. He only knew three of the people up there. Hagrid, who was laughing uproariously with another woman; and McGonagall and Dumbledore, whose heads were bowed as they conversed. At one point, Dumbledore looked up, and seemed to glance straight at Remus, who hastily looked away before he could determine if Dumbledore really had been seeking him out in the crowd.

“Come on, mate!” Sirius chided Remus after about a half an hour of watching him pick at his mashed potatoes, “I can’t watch this! Here, there’s apple pie and ice cream. Or blueberry tarts. Or fruit salad.” He swept all the mashed potato over to one side of the plate, and loaded the remainder of the space up with everything he'd mentioned.

“Don’t forget the raspberry trifle!” James interrupted, as though Sirius had been heinously neglectful, spooning a large heap of that on top of everything else. Remus looked down at his plate, where a mess of fruit and pastry was seeping into a pile of soggy mashed potatoes and burst into laughter.

“And  _ this  _ is an improvement on mash?” he asked incredulously, taking a huge scoop of the offending dish and dumping it straight on top of Sirius’ jelly and icecream.

“Mm, not quite” Sirius said thoughtfully, taking a bowl of tomato sauce and spooning it all over the trifle. “There. Perfect.”

“Sure,” Remus said, pushing the plate an arm’s length away from him.

 

When the feast ended, the two Gryffindor prefects, who introduced themselves as Asher and Penny, escorted them up many, many flights of staircases that shifted and changed beneath their feet, until they were face to face with the portrait of a woman.

“The password,” Asher announced, raising his voice so that they could all hear, “Is Dragon’s Breath. Don’t forget it. It changes periodically. Try and keep up.”

From inside the Common Room, they were directed to their dorms. To Remus’ delight, he, Sirius, James and Peter were all sharing a room, along with a boy named Kingsley, who wore an expression that seemed to say that he didn’t want to be bothered with nonsense like ‘games’ and ‘fun’. His manner, as James and Sirius began to throw up pictures and posters and knick-knacks all around their beds, was one of long-suffering weariness. 

On the only spare bed in the room, Remus’ backpack sat unassumingly. As he approached, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do for pyjamas, he saw a small trunk with the words ‘REMUS J LUPIN’ stamped onto the side. Hands shaking, he lifted the lid. Inside, there were two sets of proper robes, a hat, dragon-hide gloves, a cauldron stuffed full of pyjamas, socks, ties and a large winter cloak, a toothbrush, a telescope, a set of scales and a large stack of books.

“What’s the matter, mate?” Sirius asked, looking over from where he was hanging a large Gryffindor banner that he had clearly bought with complete confidence in his own aptitude for the house. “Leave something at home?”

“No,” Remus replied, struggling to shake himself out of a daze of disbelief, “Mum just packed me a new pair of gloves is all.”

His mind was consumed with questions as he pulled on the new pyjamas and climbed into bed. Who had given him all this? Somehow, someone knew he didn’t belong, and had decided to allow him to stay regardless. It had to be without the knowledge of his parents, of course. When Dumbledore had come to his house to offer Remus a place at Hogwarts, they had shouted and sworn and thrown him out into the rain.

“You’ll take our Remus away,” Lyall had accused, “And pretend to care about him! But there are so many other students at your school that he’ll end up locked in a room somewhere as he hurts and bleeds! You can’t take care of our boy like we can, Professor! And I won’t allow you to lift his spirits when there’s nothing to be had from your school but disappointment!”

If his parents weren’t behind this gift, then who could it be? It seemed likely that Dumbledore had done it, but surely, even now, his parents were in the Headmaster's office, demanding that Remus be returned to them. Why would Dumbledore go to this much trouble for him? Did Dumbledore just want Remus to expose himself as a fraud, to teach him a lesson? But that was insanity! And just like that, he was out of ideas. The situation was almost nonsensical. What was he expected to do after tonight? Never see his parents again? He couldn’t very well attend lessons without a wand. He would still have to go home for the Christmas holidays, and his parents wouldn’t be inclined to let him return once they had him in their clutches once more. 

All Remus knew for sure was that somebody wanted him at Hogwarts. From the start, his only goal had been to ride the Hogwarts Express, and, at the very most, catch a glimpse of the castle itself. If Remus had known that morning just how far he would come, he would be elated. But now, he could only worry. Had he gotten himself into a mess he couldn’t get out of? 

Sleep didn’t come easy to him that night. James snored right through the night, but mostly it was his own fears that kept him awake. Well past midnight, he crept onto the window ledge and spent the good part of the early morning hours looking out across the lake and the forest, wondering and worrying.

The next morning, his eyes were dark from tiredness. He crept back into bed before anybody else woke and pretended he had been asleep the whole night. He made a show of stretching and yawning, and changed back into his robes with everybody else.

“Trifle on mash for breakfast, Remus?” Sirius laughed at him as they left the Common Room, “Or are you going to play it safe? Eggs on cornflakes? Sausage on-?”

But Remus never got to find out what heinous combination Sirius was dreaming up, for Professor McGonagall was waiting for them as they left the Common Room, mere feet from the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Mr Lupin,” she said, and Remus felt his heart drop right into his stomach. This was it. “If you would follow me, please.” The look on her face was so pinched and severe that nobody dared laugh. 

“Y - yeah,” Remus said softly, casting one last, longing look back at his new friends before trailing after Professor McGonagall as she made her way at a brisk walk down many flights of stairs. They arrived, at last, before a large statue of a griffin.

“Pepper Imp,” McGonagall said to the statue. This must have been some kind of password, for the statue immediately began to move, revealing a set of stairs. McGonagall indicated that he should go up, and made no move to follow him. Holding his breath, Remus began the climb.

At the top of the stairs there sat a door. He could hear muffled voices issuing from behind it, but could not place them, or make out any distinct words. Heart pounding, he timidly tapped on the wood. It swung open almost immediately to reveal only three people. Professor Dumbledore, and Remus’ mother and father. 


End file.
